Uncertainties
by Destatikai
Summary: Zexion wasn't quite sure the circumstances of their first meeting. Oh definitely, he remembered the how and the why, but not the what that was born from this meeting, the explanation of which eluded him, continues to elude him. Zemyx for Dualism
1. Meeting

A/N: Wow, has it been a long time since I've written a fanfic… This is also my first time doing a Zemyx fic, though I've loved this pairing since there were only about four pages of stories of them on this site. This story was originally suppose to be one, long one-shot, but I decided to just split it into interconnected vignettes/drabbles.

I apologize if this first chapter is especially long and a bit boring, but a story has to start somewhere, right?

This story goes to Dualism for her avid support of this awesome pairing (with her incredible stories and dissertation) and for rekindling the Zemyx fan girl within me.

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts owned by Square Enix, etc. and "The Sun and Moon" written/sung by Mae.

**Uncertainties**

_Wasted time  
__I cannot say that I was ready for this,  
__But when worlds collide…_

Zexion wasn't quite sure of the circumstances that shrouded their first meeting. Oh definitely, he remembered the _how_ and the _why_ they met, but not the _what_ that was born from their meeting, the explanation of which eluded him, continues to elude him.

He had been in the library then, that which he mentally referred to as his room since it was the place one would most likely find him if he wasn't in his real room. The high-ceilinged room housed hundreds of books, books Zexion had practically memorized the location of (not the contents of most, though, for he was intelligent and intellectual, but not a _computer_). The room was like most of those in Castle Oblivion, mocking with the purity of its white walls and large windows which held shelf upon shelf of stories, personal accounts, knowledge, and along with an ever glowing fireplace, it all radiated a small, comforting warmth which other places in the castle did not have. Perhaps this is truly what drew Zexion there, but that is beside the point.

All of the other members of the organization would casually stroll into the library when they needed research for a new mission, and then simply stroll back out. They were as unsurprised at Zexion's constant presence, hunched over a book absorbed in a tale or in research, as he was of their speedy arrival-and-departure. But that day, the routine had been broken.

Zexion did not look up as he heard footsteps approach the library and entered, nor did he look up when the footsteps stopped, hesitated, then approached a shelf before stopping again. He _did_ look up when the faded reverberations of footsteps had stopped bouncing off the walls, realizing that too much silence had passed between footsteps to be the normal occurance.

He dragged his eyes from the tiny black print on the pages to the figure that stood at the shelf a few yards from the table he sat at. He recognized the non-hooded member as the new-recruit. The tall, slim man scrunched his brows as he examined the books, running his gloved hand through his blonde locks in slight frustration. He gave a small pout as his hand resumed to scratch his head in the clueless sort of way.

Zexion had heard talk of him, how he was klutzy and foolish, somewhat of an idiot even. He sighed as he decided that he might as well offer assistance. The sooner the blonde was out of the library, the sooner he could regain focus on his book.

"What are you looking for?" he called out to the blonde.

Startled, the blonde quickly looked to the source of the voice. Upon realizing it to be the man who was previously reading, he called in response, "Uh… a book about a world called Spira and some Sin-something…"

"Next case, third shelf."

The man hesitated for a second, not comprehending the rapid answer, before he managed to move to the appropriate book case and shelf. When he finally found the book, he pulled it out, rubbing off the thin layer of dust that had settled itself on the bindings.

"Thanks…" the blonde offered.

Zexion did not even wait for the reply as his attention returned to the open pages in front of him. Unfortunately his research was once again interrupted as his ears once again picked up the sound of footsteps, though it was not the footsteps themselves that caught his attention, but where they were going: _toward_ him.

Zexion glanced up once again to see the blonde sit down in a chair beside him, drop the book on the table, and begin to flip through. Though his outer façade remained stoic, internally, a confused and slightly bemused expression formed, curious to the strange newcomer who would actually stay in the library. He looked back down to his work.

"It's my first mission, this trip to Spira," the blonde started as he continued to rustle through pages.

Zexion merely gave a "hn" in response in attempt to possibly stem the creation of conversation. Unfortunately, his response instead caused the blonde to continue.

"Oh, almost forgot, I'm Demyx. You must be… Zexion? I'd heard that you're usually in the library…"

Another affirmative "hn."

"Yeah, I just got in a few weeks ago. Everyone seems pretty… nice, I guess… I was kinda bored the past weeks since the Superior wanted me to settle in before I started working. But instead, I've been in my room with no one to talk to since everyone seemed to always be gone, and…"

Zexion sighed in exasperation at the conversation – more like a superfluous use of words – directed toward him. At this rate, he would not finish his research. The voice continued on in its bubbly unreserved. This would be the third time he would look away from the book, a new personal record.

"Would you be quiet, Number IX," he said with a cold edge and a glare, more of a command than a suggestion.

Immediately, the blonde shut his mouth mid-sentence and looked down at his own book.

Zexion, satisfied that he'd finally achieved peace and quiet, looked down again, ready to be engrossed upon his subject. That is, until he heard the pages of the book beside him rustle continually and pages flip at increasing speed. As the noise continued, Zexion somewhat wished that he had let the man keep talking since at least he could block that out more easily. His wish did not go unheeded as the flipping of pages stopped.

"I asked for the Superior to give me all reconnaissance missions."

Realizing that he wouldn't have any quiet while the blonde was here, he decided to humor him with his short responses. He would get tired of talking eventually.

"Why reconnaissance," he asked without looking up, once again more of a statement than an inquiry.

"Ah, I don't like the whole face-off fighting scene. I'd rather not fight if I didn't have to."

Zexion looked up in surprise – or what would have been surprised had his face not been emotionless. Everyone in the Organization loved to fight, had a blood lust, except him, who would rather not dirty his hands. He would never have thought he'd meet someone who shared this aspect.

Quietly, he replied with less of an edge to his voice, "It is the same with me."

Demyx cracked a wide grin, believing that he had knocked down the first wall, and once again opened the floodgate of conversation.

Zexion groaned inwardly at the nonstop chatter. But to his surprise, he did not block the words out. He listened instead. It was curiosity, he reasoned with himself, interest toward a new, strange specimen to study.

And he continued to listen when Demyx came back with a new mission and the next after that. It became Demyx's routine to find the right book (with Zexion's directions), sit down, and simply go off talking to Zexion. And Zexion continued to listen, give a response sometimes, but mostly listen.

On some rare occasion – becoming increasingly more common as the days went by – Demyx would come even when he didn't have a mission, in search of the person he knew would listen.

This… _thing_ (for lack of a better word)… couldn't possibly be _friendship_. It was all curiosity - or the memory of curiosity, to be accurate – Zexion continued to reason. Even though he had dropped the use of "Number IX" and replaced it with "Demyx." Even though he gave the smallest fraction of a smile when Demyx's bright face entered the library doors.

No, this could not be friendship.


	2. Doubts

A/N: This part is a little shorter than the last part, but then again, there's not as much dialogue. There's more Zexion-pondering though… Also, thanks so much to the people that reviewed! I love the feedback!

Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own any of the characters or the lyrics in the beginning and all that jazz.

**II**

_And all that I have is all that I want  
__The words seem to flow and the thoughts, they keep running  
__All that I have is yours  
__All that I am is yours_

Zexion wasn't quite sure when the phenomenon began to occur, when that unidentifiable mass of the shadow of emotion began to twist his stomach and shorten his breath whenever Demyx sat down beside him. Oh, this definitely was not friendship anymore (for he had long since abandoned the reasoning that the blonde had not become a friend).

There was not a day – excluding missions – which Demyx failed to arrive at the library, great smile in place, to visit Zexion in the library. Although Zexion showed much of the indifference he showed during their initial meeting, only adding conversation he deemed necessary, Demyx continued to speak to him with the same excitement and fervor, and Zexion simply could not understand the logic behind this. Yet, Zexion began to expect to see those bright blue eyes and smiling face… Because of these meetings, Zexion was able to uncover the truth behind all the misconceptions.

Demyx was no idiot, an optimist perhaps, or terribly passionate, but he was not stupid, which most assumed him to be. Zexion would indeed go out of his way to counter anyone who states otherwise, for no one would call _his_ Demyx a ditzy blonde.

On the contrary, Demyx was quite attuned to what was going on. In fact, the things he told Zexion were often about what was going on; sometimes, some of his ideas could actually get him in trouble.

Zexion clearly remembered the first time Demyx brought up his ideas. In fact, Zexion knew from the moment that Demyx walked in that something was not quite right with him, uneasy smile glued onto his face. The way he walked and looked, tired from a mission, lacked the usual spark and happy aura he usually had. Even the way he simple sat down and laid back, unmoving, was definitely not normal. Despite the peach and quiet this kept, Zexion couldn't help but feel uneasy himself at this change.

"Tell me what is on your mind." It was more of a command than a question, really.

Demyx gave a sigh before responding, "Do you ever wonder why we do this? I mean this whole, 'find Kingdom Hearts' thing, what's the point really?"

Zexion raised his brow in surprise at the completely unforeseen question. It took a few seconds of collecting the correct words to answer.

"We are trying to find and open Kingdom hearts through these extensive missions in order to find our true purpose in the world, our true-"

"Stop. You know that those are just reasons the Superior feeds us when we're 'thinking away from the goal.' C'mon Zexy, don't tell me you've never doubted!"

Zexion remained perplexed at the interruption and Demyx's enthusiasm. He could not possibly say the truth, that yes he often doubted what all of his research was for, the missions, the mind games that could be at work, for the purpose of the original six was long past. No, he could not reveal that.

"Demyx, we are Nobodies. We are looking for our identities, for our hearts," he stated in his scholarly tones.

"We do have hearts," the blonde replied, dead pan, point blank.

Zexion was taken aback by such words; of course they had no hearts, because that is what made them Nobodies in the first place! That very fact emphasized that they were merely shadows of their past life, doomed to roam the world lost and lifeless. He could do nothing but stare back at the blonde's confident face.

"I know I sound crazy and I don't blame you for not believing, but I have to say this. Just because we're 'Nobodies' doesn't mean a damn thing. We live, we breathe, we're here right now, meaning that we must be _somebody_, right? We have names, we have thoughts, we affect the world and the world affects us, so what says we can't have hearts? We can feel the world around us, we have emotions, we can love…"

Although the last words were said in a whisper, Zexion still heard them. Demyx's revelations continued to ring in his ears, awakening the doubts that he thought he had settled for good.

As he sat and pondered, Demyx let out another sigh as he recognized the slate-haired man begin to brood. He shook his head, as if shaking the tension that had been growing within him, and thanked him for listening, letting some of the usual cheeriness return.

Zexion, though, heard none of these superfluous remarks, mind still trying to grasp the passionate rant. He could do nothing but stare back at those hopeful, bright eyes. Love? No, Nobodies could not love; it was not possible.

Unexpectedly, where his heart would have been, he felt a strange, quick thump.


	3. Pondering

A/N: So, this part has even more Zexion-pondering than the last... I'm afraid he may be a bit OOC in this chapter, but I couldn't imagine him being so cold under the circumstances. I _did _laugh whenever I'd imagine Demyx's reactions from this chapter, though. This chapter was actually suppose to be more centered around Demyx's eyes, but there was only so much I could say without losing the plotline. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: You know the drill, I don't own anything but the plotline.

**III**

_Painted skies  
__I've seen so many that cannot compare  
__To your ocean eyes…_

Zexion wasn't quite sure what mysterious force of Nature had compelled him to agree to enter Demyx's room. To do so, the circumstance in general of being in another's private space, was much more of a personal situation that Zexion had never dared to intrude upon. And yet, when Demyx looked straight into his eyes, he could not think to refuse.

Zexion was previously in the library, only feigning to read, eyes glancing up every so often at the clock; so often, in fact, that it seemed that he watched each minute pass by. He let out a sigh and shook his head in amusement as he realized his actions, refusing the confusion within – questioning why he acted in this manner – to surface. The last thing he wanted was another headache. After all, it wasn't his business to know Demyx's whereabouts at all times. Even if he knew that he wasn't on a mission. Even if he had not seen him all day. Even if it was getting late and he still had not come to the library.

Zexion sighed again, gathering his books into his arms as he stood up from his usual seat. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get anything done in the library today. Funny, how Zexion still could not find any peace even when Demyx was not by his side.

Leaving the warmth of the fireplace, he walked into the dark, cool halls, books held to his chest as he walked through the shadows. He felt no need to simply teleport to his room, knowing full well that even there, he would most likely simply sit and think more, or sleep. Following that line of reason, he decided to take the long route to his room, the route he hadn't taken since his first few nights in Castle Oblivion.

Footsteps resounding against the walls, Zexion walked along the deserted corridors, pondering about trifling subjects, something he rarely used to do, yet recently occurred more and more often. It was somewhat of a form of stress-relief for his overworked mind, letting it wander as it pleased, just as he wandered the castle. He even stopped in front of one of the tall, intricately decorated windows to look outside, only met with the perpetual darkness that they had become use to.

Finally, he arrived at the hall that his room was in. He paused, studying the view of the hall from the side he entered, raising a hand to brush his slate-colored bangs to the side and letting them settle over his eye again. It was a strange impression, seeing the same hall he had entered millions of times before at a different perspective simply because he had entered from a different direction.

He started walking again, making his way to his room. He passed multiple doors, most with nothing written on them. But as he took a step past another door, he noticed a "XI" engraved upon its front. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight. How in hell did he not discover that Demyx was on the same floor, in the same hall, as him?

Suddenly, the door before him opened. It took him a second to realize that his surprised expression must have matched that of the blonde in front of him; or rather, his internal expression matched that of the blonde.

"Zexion? What are you…?"

"Did you know?" he quickly cut him off.

"Did I know what?" His expression changed to that of confusion as he continued to hold onto the door, still standing within his room.

"My room," Zexion motioned with his head, "…there."

Zexion didn't think that Demyx could look any more shocked and confused.

"Wh…what?" Demyx replied weakly.

A long, awkward silence stretched between the two, Zexion studying the blonde's face as he stared at the door frame, appearing to collect his thoughts. Zexion concluded that the blonde in fact did not know of their rooms' close proximity. He never thought Demyx could become so speechless.

Not liking the uncomfortable silence, Zexion turned away, taking a step toward his room.

"I will be going to my room, then…" he offered as parting words before beginning to walk again.

"Come to my room."

Had Zexion not been calm, composed, stoic Zexion, he would have dropped his books in shock. Instead, his arm gave a strange twitch. He turned around to face the blonde, expressionless mask barely intact.

"I mean, I was just heading to the library, hoping to catch you before you left. I know it's late, but since I haven't seen you all day… and your room is right there… would you… stay with me for a bit?"

Zexion looked at Demyx straight in the eyes, debating whether he was truly serious. All he could find was sincerity dancing in those bright, blue orbs. It seemed that the longer he stared, the more slowly time moved, the deeper he sunk in those clear-water eyes, a stark contrast to the darkness that surrounded them.

Now, Zexion had fully believed that he was above being manipulated; after all, he was of course so named the Cloaked Schemer. Yet, when he looked into _those_ eyes, it seemed that he was the manipulated, rather than the manipulator.

And so, against every line of reason in his mind, he nodded and stepped toward Demyx.

"I don't usually go that way down the hall. I like taking the long way around. Just so you know."

Zexion looked up again at Demyx's face, a sheepish grin spread across his lips, hand reaching up to scratch his head.

For the first time, Zexion let a small smile grace his lips before nodding in understanding.

Demyx's grin grew to Cheshire-cat proportion as he moved aside to let Zexion in.

And Zexion continued to come to Demyx's room when he didn't make it to the library, though Demyx still did all the talking and Zexion still did the listening. And it still baffled Zexion why he continued to do so.

No, it couldn't be that he actually cared for Demyx. Even if the day didn't feel complete without seeing him. Even if he actually liked listening to the incessant chatter. Even if he subtly reveled in the fact that their rooms were so close together.

No, he didn't care for Demyx. It was impossible.

Already, he could feel his arguments break down as he settled more comfortably in his usual chair in the room, Demyx continuing to fill the void of silence with his conversation.


	4. Decision

Woo! I finally finished, and right on time for Zemyx day! It took a lot of thought and frustration, but I'm happy to have finally completed their story. Thank you very much to all that have read and reviewed, as well as to those who have waited for and ending.

Happy Zemyx day!

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters, nor do I own the song lyrics used in the story. They are property of Square-enix and Mae respectively.

- - - - -

**IV**

_The pictures you took that cover your room  
__And it was just like the sun, but more like the moon  
__The light that can reach it all  
__And now I'm branded for taking the fall._

Zexion wasn't quite sure of _anything_ of and around his existence anymore. How could he have foreseen that the singular event of that tall, lanky blonde choosing to sit and talk to him rather than simply walking away would erase all lines of reason, would play him the fool by rousing the doubts that he held against all that he believed.

If Demyx had walked away that day, everything would still be status quo. He wouldn't have wasted his time reading for abnormally long hours to give himself a reason to stay in the library longer. He wouldn't have wasted his energy taking the long way around to his room on a daily basis. He absolutely wouldn't be sitting in Demyx's room pondering these problematic thoughts (which would definitely lessen the number of headaches he obtained in a day, as well as the number of times that he'd pinch the bridge of his nose to calm these thoughts.)

But then again, it was a two-way road, wasn't it? He could've easily ignored the blonde. He himself could have walked away at any point, could have ignored his incessant chatter, could have stopped any development from occurring and effectively killed the root of all that did happen. But he didn't.

He had chosen to give way to his curiosity, had chosen to spend the time and effort. No, he had chosen not to be _alone_, to test the so-called impossibility of friendship. Little did he know that it would come to even more than that.

Demyx wasn't just some research project anymore, nor was he just a friend. It had been too long. They had gotten too close to each other.

"Hey Zexy, are you okay? You've been zoning out on me for a while…"

Zexion was startled out of his river of thoughts at the sound of Demyx's voice. His massive volume of a book sat open at the same page he had left off, long forgotten on his lap when his mind had started to drift. He refocused on Demyx, who sat at the edge of his bed, eyebrows knitted and head slightly tilted to the side. "Yeah," he cleared his throat self-consciously, "I'm fine. Maybe I've just been sitting for too long."

He closed the book in his lap and placed it on the coffee table in front of him, laying it on top of the pile of books that had collected over the numerous times he had come to Demyx's room. He stood up from the large, comfortable couch he was sitting in – the same one he had sit in during every visit – and took a few, slow steps away, stopping once he reached a certain item hung on the wall.

There weren't really many items in Demyx's room. The first time Zexion had stepped into the room, he was greeted with deep blue walls, a great contrast to the colorless walls of his room. The layout of the room was simple: a bed covered in white sheets with blue trimming, a desk with a light and a few papers scattered across the top, and a sitting area at the corner, a semi-circle of royal blue couches and seats with a small coffee table at the center. On one wall were large windows surrounded by long drapes, at which Demyx often leaned and looked out when he was wrapped in his own thoughts. But hanging on the other wall, the one he had stopped in front of, was the item that Zexion believed made the room truly Demyx's.

Zexion faced the blue sitar, observing its simple details and brilliant shine. Demyx had often played it when he had nothing left to say, strumming singing melodies as he read a book, or even just watched his fingers dance across the strings. The sitar added a cool warmth to the room, a small slice of personality that nonetheless shined its own kind of light.

Zexion distantly heard the soft padding of footsteps come from behind before he felt a body devastatingly close to his back.

"You know, you could touch it," a cool voice spoke close to his ear, "it's not that fragile. Besides, I trust you."

He reached a gloved hand up to trace the contours of the instrument, intrigued by such an irony of their existence, this item used to express, to _feel_. Demyx reached up as well, stroking with a sense of fondness before following the path Zexion's hand had traveled, stopping when their hands met.

The touch sent a jolt of electricity up Zexion's arm despite the cloth that separated them. Subconsciously, he leaned into the growing warmth at his back. And all too suddenly, the hand was gone and the warmth disappeared.

Zexion turned around to see that Demyx had taken a step back, his gaze focused on the floor.

"Dem…"

I moment passed, a moment of calm silence.

"I'm sorry Zexion…"

"There's no reason to be sorry," he cut off in his even tone.

"But this… I just…" Here, Demyx looked up, meeting his calm gaze with his piercing blue eyes. "I'm not scared of… of what I feel… because I know what this is. What I'm scared of is _you_. That you might not _feel_ this, too."

Zexion's eyes widened at the unexpected declaration. He stared into Demyx's eyes, attempting to read further into his thoughts, while those eyes stared back and read straight to his soul.

His eyes must've softened because Demyx's widened in surprise at the lack of the reaction that he had expected. Zexion took a step toward him to stand only a breath away from the blonde. Although he could feel the blood rushing through his veins and pounding in his ears, he managed to raise a gloved hand to take hold of his cheek. He never broke the connection, trying to show with his eyes what he wasn't quite ready to say yet, but knew he couldn't deny any longer.

Slowly, he pulled his head down to his level and both of their eyes slipped closed, hesitating only a brief second before placing a butterfly kiss on his lips. It was short, fleeting, but soft and breathtakingly sweet. Nothing was forced of overbearing. Zexion had no sense of regret for the action, and instead, the cloud that had been hanging over him seemed to dissolve.

Demyx pulled back a little to refocus on Zexion's face, a question playing in his eyes. _Are you sure?_

Zexion only looked on for a second longer before he gave his answer. A smile broke through onto his lips. The gesture was unfamiliar, but genuine all the same, as Demyx understood and gave a brilliant smile back before dipping his head to reclaim his lips, pulling him into a tight embrace. Zexion followed his lead and allowed the emotion that he had tried to bury to wash over him.

Because with all that was uncertain in their existence, this – _this_ – was the one thing he was truly certain of.

x x x

...omake

_And when you say forever can't you see  
__You've already captured me._

"Stay with me."

Zexion listened to Demyx's even breaths, following the rise and fall of his chest as he lay in the crook of his neck, wrapped in his arms. He knew – they _both_ knew – the complications of such a question, but at that very moment, there could only be one answer.

"Always, Demyx."


End file.
